Overly Emotional Tuesdays

As I walked out of the cold, desolate house and into the piercing sunlight the hair came to life on my skin, standing up like a war victim learning to use his legs again. My eyes contracted with every ounce of the 97 degree south carolina heat that oozed and flooded over my vision. Today was not going to be a good day, and I knew it because according to the low murmur of my heart and the beating drums inside my skull, I was utterly and completley drunk. My donut hole ached with the memory of what was put inside the night before. It was humorous because at one point I imagined my life as a police officer, working on the force and taking down people like me to help turn their life around and get them on a better path. I enjoyed the little things in life like helping cats out of trees and assisting old women in crossing the street. Things were different now however, because my donut hole needed to be filled and the strippers in the club were all too scrumptious. I mean really, when you lick off the glaze of a freshly baked donut and insert your tongue into the missing middle what’s a person to do but fall into excessive moaning? No, my life is very different now, I’m a different man, but I have found that in my life all I truly need are donut holes and stripper poles.

(Source: missleahjay)

Fucking look at her again.

Do it.

I swear to God I’ll lose my fucking cool.

daynakon:

And… Oh, my god! I can’t stop to crying!!!!

It was so sad, and beautiful and.. SAD!

Why do I have to be so masochistic?!!!